


Pancakes for Breakfast

by teddybagwell



Category: The Mighty Boosh (TV)
Genre: Cute Ending, Cutesy, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, Gay, Gay Male Character, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, So much fluff its sickening, are these ficlets??, i'm on a fluff kick at the minute, this might be the fluffiest thing i've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-25 00:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20714774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddybagwell/pseuds/teddybagwell
Summary: Howard Moon loves Vince Noir, which means he'll do absolutely anything for him. Even if it is just the simple things.





	Pancakes for Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> I started this and it got away from me. possibly the fluffiest thing ever written?? I hope you all enjoy! <3

Howard doesn't like pancakes for breakfast, and he certainly doesn't like them drowning in maple syrup, but he makes them every morning without fail because Vince loves pancakes.

Every morning, Vince appears from their shared bedroom an hour after Howard; hair all askew, rumpled shirt hanging off his shoulders, always managing to look fresh-faced.

'Morning, little man,' Howard says, usually dishing out the pancakes at this point.

'Awright, Howard,' Vince smiles, coming to join him in the kitchen. 

Vince always wraps his arms around Howard's waist and nuzzles his head into his neck (as best as he can with the height difference). The fruity scents from the multiple products Vince uses hit him instantly. Howard never shows how much of an effect the close proximity has on him, but his head spins for minutes after Vince has pulled away.

'Do you want to come pour your syrup?' Howard asks as Vince sidles up next to him. Howard's hand rests on the small of his back, rubbing softly.

He watches as Vince pours the sweetness relentlessly, willing himself not to think of the time their previous bottle had taken a trip to their bedroom and made for a more than interesting night; he never wanted maple syrup with anything other than Vince ever again.

'How you're not bouncing off the walls all day is beyond me,' Howard mumbles, watching intently as Vince swipes his finger through the pool of syrup before sucking on it, eyes boring into Howard's.

Vince's tongue is extra sweet with the added kick from the maple syrup and he didn't want to pull away but the pancakes were only getting colder, and he wants Vince to enjoy them while they're still hot. He places one last kiss on Vince's lips before retreating. 

Howard could learn to like maple syrup.

xxx

Howard hates clothes shopping, especially in places that he knows he doesn't belong, but he visits Topshop regularly because Vince loves shopping. 

He acts as an on-hand mobile clothing rack, holding multiple hangers in each hand as more are being draped over his shoulder. He moves swiftly through the shop, never having to worry about losing sight of Vince in his vibrant outfit.

'Look, Howard!' Vince explains, holding up a pair of blood-red boots. 'These are genius!' he adds as he frantically looks for the right size.

Howard refrains from complaining and instead, ignores the deep ache settling in his lower back and savours the excitement it brings to his lover's face, adoring the shine in his eyes.

'What do y'think about this?' Vince asks, now holding up a sequined shirt to which Howard grimaced. 'I'll 'ave one of them then,' placing it over Howard's shoulder.

Over the years, Howard has come to realise whatever he didn't like, Vince did. He's fairly sure that's how Vince decided on what clothes to buy and what to discard. 

As the clothes pile up, Howard becomes invisible behind the mountain of bright-coloured materials, certain he's going to trip and enter an alternate dimension where everyone was made of sequins and diamantes. 

'Almost ready, little man?' Howard asked, trying to hide the pleading in his voice. 

'Almost!' Vince replied, 'we have to find something for you first,' he added, smiling over the mountain he'd made to look at Howard.

Howard envisioned himself walking out of Topshop in black drainpipes and a bejewelled poncho, and a shiver ran down his spine. 

'Maybe a new shirt that don't look like someone threw up on it,' Vince said nonchalantly, eyeing up a sparkly green jumper. 'Or maybe some trousers that aren't the colour of dog shit-'

'Aggressive nutmeg is a highly fashionable colour, I'll have you know.' 

'In what universe?' 

They bicker back and forth about the validation of the more earthy colours and Howard enjoys the teasing tone of Vince's voice, trying not to get too offended when he says every shade of muffin should be banished from the colour spectrum.

xxx

Howard doesn't like nightclubs, can't stand the insanely loud music or the social pressure to consume copious amounts of alcohol, but he finds himself at bars on occasional Saturdays because Vince loves to party.

His hand rests on Vince's hip, keeping him close as more bodies than he can count brush past the two of them with every passing second.

'What are you having?' Howard shouts into his lover's ear, still not convinced he'd pick up on what he'd said. 

'Flirtini!' Vince shouts back, wiggling his hips to the music playing over the speakers. 

Vince sips through a straw while Howard drinks his scotch straight from the glass as they sit in the only spare booth they could find. Vince is restless like a child, never being able to sit still for more than a minute. 

'Are y'gonna dance wi'me, Howard?' Vince shouts, moving in closer so that his mouth could aline with his ear.

'Maybe a little later, Vince,' Howard replies, knowing he'll need another drink before his feet touch the dancefloor. 

An hour later and now on his second whiskey, Vince must be on his fifth or even sixth flirtini. Howard can't comprehend how such a small body can absorb so much alcohol and not be paralytic. 

'I need the toilet, Howard,' Vince whines, leaning in a little too close for him be anywhere near sober. 

They manoeuvre through the sea of people, Howard leading him in the direction of the big neon sign with their hands intertwined tightly so they don't get swept away from each other. 

Howard watches him stumble to the urinal. He ponders on how long they'd been in that stage of the relationship where they're comfortable peeing in front of each other, and once Vince finishes he decides maybe it was simply because Vince was too drunk to care.

'Can we dance now?' Vince asks, falling into Howard's side as they hold hands whilst walking out of the toilets.

Howard took a deep breath. 'Sure, little man.'

Vince looks like he belongs on a dancefloor, Howard thinks. He's hyperaware of himself when he's pressed so closely to other people, and he's sure he can feel a million eyes watching him. Meanwhile, Vince appeared as confident and carefree as ever; it was as though he wasn't aware of the swam of people around them, or he just wasn't fazed in the way Howard was. 

But the only person he's watching is Vince. The dazed expression, the sway of his dainty hips, the touch of his hands as they graze his chest. It's almost too wonderful. 

Sometimes, Vince will turn and dance with his back to Howard's chest and he can't refrain from digging his fingers into his hips. It was as though it was only the two of them left in the world and Howard could begin to forget just how many people were packed into the small nightclub.

He finds himself coming to enjoy the bitterness of the scotch mixed with the sugary taste of flirtinis on Vince's tongue. 

xxx

Howard loves falling asleep to the soft sound of Vince's breathing, adores the gentle grip Vince has on his arm that wraps around his petite waist as he holds him, and he knows Vince loves it too.

Howard's feet brush against Vince's, who chuckles softly. He rubs circles on the bare skin of his stomach, the warmth spreading through his fingertips.

'I like when y'do that,' Vince whispers. 'Feels good.' 

Howard doesn't reply but carries on caressing the same spot, feeling Vince's breathing becoming heavier by the second. 

'Can't believe we spent so many years not doin' this,' Vince mused. 'It's genius.' 

'I don't think this happens in platonic relationships, Vince.'

'Yeah, but we were never really platonic, were we?' Vince claimed. 'Fairly sure I snogged you the day we met.'

He's right, Howard thinks. While they haven't always admitted it, there's always been far too little space between them for it to have ever been platonic.

'I love you, little man,' Howard whispers, pulling him closer. 

'Love you, Howard.' 

He can feel Vince's breaths becoming deeper by the minute and he's drawn in by the rhythm. He sighs deeply as his eyes fall shut.

He's certain he'd do anything for Vince, whether it was walking to the end of the Earth for him or simply getting up a little bit earlier to make pancakes, it was all worth it just to be the one holding him at the end of the day.


End file.
